


Not Fat, Just Big-Boned

by Nicnac



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cultural Misunderstandings, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1871193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicnac/pseuds/Nicnac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock thinks Jim's mind is dynamic with a great personality. Neither of these things mean what Jim thinks they mean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Fat, Just Big-Boned

The stupid thing was, Jim had seen this coming. Hell, Jim had been looking forward to it in a really pathetically eager way – which was still an improvement on the pathetic, eager, and guilty he had been feeling before Spock and Uhura broke up. The mind-meld was too useful of a tool, no matter how intimate it was, to not use it on occasion, so it really was only a matter of time before Spock had to use it on Jim. (That Jim would happily take advantage of any opportunity for any kind of intimacy with his First Officer was neither here nor there.) The problem was, at no point during Jim’s one or two (dozen) fantasies about seducing Spock with the sexiness of his brain, did the possibility of a less fortuitous outcome occur to him. He was just perpetually unreasonably optimistic when it came to Spock; personally, Jim blamed Cave Spock. The end result was that it wasn’t until now, a couple of hours after the whole mind-melding thing was said and done and Jim was supposed to be writing his report on the incident, that he finally realized the horribleness of his ‘win Spock over with his sexy brain’ plan. Sure, it was still slightly better than ‘show up naked in Spock’s bed,’ but that was hardly a ringing endorsement.

Jim was trying not to dwell on the possible not sexiness of his brain by virtue of creating a plan with something better to recommend it than the fact that Spock probably wouldn’t report him for sexual harassment, when the door to his quarters chimed. “Come,” Jim called, turning back to his console so he could at least pretend he was working and not mooning like a lovestruck teenager. Because this was Jim’s life, and Jim’s life hated him, the door did not open to reveal Bones wanting to run even more medical diagnostics, or Rand with even more paperwork for Jim to procrastinate on, or even Cupcake, spoiling for a rematch. Nope, the door opened and in walked the person Jim least wanted to see at the moment: Spock.

“I’ve finished compiling my reports regarding our expedition to Lamus III and have sent them to you, Captain.”

Jim wasn’t capable of raising one eyebrow, so he just put on his best, ‘I’m not buying your bullshit’ expression. Spock, of course, was unaffected. “Thank you, Mr. Spock.” Jim waited a beat, but Spock didn’t seem in any rush to elaborate on why he felt the need to stop by to tell Jim something Jim would have realized himself in a few minutes anyway, so Jim did it for him. “So about them mind-melds…”

“Captain?” For a Vulcan, Spock really did do a remarkable impression of a dear in the headlights.

“C’mon Spock, it’s not like it takes a genius” – which Jim totally was; that made for a sexy brain, right? – “to figure out why you came by. So how about I just say I’m sorry that I had to inflict my illogical human mind on you, and we leave it at that?”

“Apologies are unnecessary, Captain,” Spock said, and Jim resisted the urge to mouth the words along with him. “Especially when the party apologizing intended and committed no wrong. There is no offense where none is taken.”

“So what you’re saying is my brain’s not that awful?” Jim leaned back in his chair and grinned cockily up at Spock. Maybe the sexy brain plan had some merit after all.

“To the contrary, I found your mind to be most… dynamic.” The pause lasted for barely a second, but that was something like an hour in Spock time, and he couldn’t quite meet Jim’s eyes as he said it. Jim wasn’t an expert on Vulcan culture – though not for lack of trying, those closed-mouthed Vulcan bastards – but he could tell when someone was throwing him an indirect insult/pity compliment. Dynamic was probably the Vulcan equivalent of calling someone ‘big-boned.’

Huh. Jim had never been called fat before.

“And I’m sure it’s got a great personality too.” Bitter? Who Jim?

“Indeed,” Spock agreed, looking painfully serious, and that was all that Jim could take.

Jim straightened up again and slipped back into his Captain Face; it wasn’t nearly as good as Spock’s Vulcan Face, but it had seen Jim through a number of emotional compromises. “Thank you, Commander. I’ll be sure to look over your reports as soon as I finish compiling my own. If that’s all?”

Spock hesitated again before completely shutting down. Jim forgot sometimes how expressive his First Officer was until he stopped. Vulcan Face really did beat out Captain Face. “It is, sir,” Spock said before turning to leave.

Well, now Jim felt like a total ass. Sure, he was disappointed that Spock wasn’t clamoring to get into his pants – or back into his mind-pants; in a turn of events that would shock absolutely no one, Jim wasn’t that picky – but Spock had been trying to be his nice as he could while sticking to the whole Vulcan honesty thing. A Vulcan worrying about someone’s feelings was kind of a big deal, and Spock didn’t deserve Jim’s pissy-ness regardless. “I’ll see you in the mess for dinner?” Jim called after Spock’s retreating back.

“That would be agreeable.” Spock didn’t turn around to answer Jim, but he did answer and looked maybe a little bit more relaxed, so Jim figured he was probably forgiven.

Now Jim was left alone to wallow. Which was a really bad idea; Jim Kirk wallowing alone never led to good things. The problem was Jim’s usual go-to talking partners were non-options at the moment. Spock was out for obvious reasons, and Jim had already whined to Bones about Spock earlier this week. Bugging the doctor about his feelings too often was just begging to be hypo’d – really there was no way one person could need that many vitamin boosters, especially since Jim was pretty sure Bones was just making that ‘scurvy’ thing up. Although… if Jim couldn’t talk to Spock about his feelings, maybe he could, you know, talk to Spock.

After confirming the time on New Vulcan, early morning, but not too early, Jim sent a transmission request to Cave Spock. Luck must have finally deigned to grace Jim with her presence, because a few moments later he was greeted with the not-quite-smiling face of Cave Spock. “Greetings old friend.”

“Do you think my brain is fat?” Wow Kirk, way to be smooth.

“That is a most unusual question,” replied Spock, looking more amused than confused. But then, he pretty much always looked amused when he talked to Jim. If Jim wasn’t so sure of how much Cave Spock liked him, he’d think he was being made fun of constantly.

“Forget I asked that. The point is, my Spock and I were on a ‘routine survey mission’ earlier and long story short” – a very long story involving lizard people and Jim didn’t care if it was undiplomatic, he hated lizard people – “the two of us had to mind-meld. Then, when I brought it up a minute ago, he said my brain had a ‘great personality’ before heading out of here as fast as he could.” Well technically, it had been more like Jim had kicked him out, but details.

“I fail to see the cause of your distress. While I am aware that humans can on occasion use the phrase ‘great personality’ as a subtle insult, I highly doubt this was the manner in which my counterpart intended it. He is not particularly disposed toward using human colloquialisms.”

Jim blinked. That… was a very good point actually. “Okay, you might be right about that, but he also called my mind dynamic.  I know that doesn’t sound that bad, but the way he said it made it pretty clear that dynamic was a euphemism for a total mess. And not even a hot mess, the kind of mess that makes him sigh and make comments about the efficiency of a well-organized workspace. Not that I would accuse you guys of sighing on the outside, but don’t try to pretend like you don’t do it on the inside. I can totally tell.” Jim tended to babble when he was upset. Or anxious. Or happy. Or drunk. He was working on it.

The corners of Spock’s lips twitched and, oh yes, Jim was _so_ being made fun of. “I have no doubt you can. However, with regards to my counterpart’s use of the word dynamic; I do not believe that word means what you think it means.”

“I know when I’m being insulted,” Jim retorted. He ought to, give how many of those euphemistic insults he had gotten from pretty much every authority figure he had come into contact with in his teenage years (except for from Frank, not much for euphemisms Frank). “But this is depressing, let’s talk about something else.” Jim wasn’t sure if choosing to avoid the problem rather than wallowing over it was actually personal growth, but he was going to count it as a win.

Spock hesitated for a moment before inclining his head slightly in acquiesce. “I do not believe I have ever told you about the origins of my pendant,” Spock said, pulling the necklace he was pretty much always wearing out from under his shirt.

“No you haven’t” Jim agreed, perking up. He was always up for learning new things about Spock, especially if there was a chance he might get a piece of Vulcan cultural information out of the deal.

“My Jim gave it to me.”

“I don’t think that counts as changing the subject,” Jim interrupted to say. As awesome as their epic intra-galactic space husbands romance was, talking about it _now_ , right after _his_ Spock had called his brain ugly, would probably just be depressing. Maybe it was stupid to be envious of an alternate timeline (alternate dimension?) version of himself, but whatever; Jim couldn’t be a genius all the time.

Then the implications of what Spock had just said hit him. “Wait, he gave you a necklace? Just how gay were you guys?”  Which, wow, rude. But Jim couldn’t help it, any time a part of him wanted to squeal like a thirteen year old girl, an inevitability when talking about his and Spock’s alternate self’s epic intra-galactic space husbands romance, regardless of how depressing the subject was at the time, another part of him was compelled toward some chest-beating manly man-ness. None of which was probably a healthy and mature emotional response. He was working on it.

Spock didn’t seem offended though, so it was probably okay. “The technical term for both my and my Jim’s sexuality would be pansexual, I believe, but in this case the more accurate answer would be ‘pretty gay.’”

Jim let out a snort of laughter. “I’ll say.”

“However, I should note that Jim did not give me the necklace as a whole, he gave me a Holo-Emitter with a message wishing me a happy birthday and congratulating me on my ambassadorial appointment. I was the one to put it on a cord so as to keep it on me at all times.”

Somehow, despite his inner squee-ing, Jim managed not to say ‘so what you meant to say was the two of you were _super_ gay.’ Personal growth.  “I’m sure he’d be happy to know you still have it.”

“Indeed. In our time together we continually strived to help one another reach our first best destinies. I am sure my Jim would be pleased that he is continuing to do so in small way.”

“Your first best destiny?” Jim prompted. Spock, transwarp beaming equations aside, was typically pretty closed mouthed about specific future events – who knew the Temporal Prime Directive was an actual thing? But he was sometimes willing to open up when it was about more general, vague topics, like destiny, or life-defining friendships, or that one time he’d gone on about _t’hy’la_ for over an hour without ever clearly explaining to Jim what that word meant. Jim was pretty sure it was a word for friend, but he hadn’t quite dared to use it on his Spock yet, because there was a reasonably good chance that it meant lover or soul mate or space husband (okay, so it probably didn’t mean space husband, but the others were definitely possible).

“A phrase I used to my Jim once, to encourage him to take his rightful place as a starship captain,” Spock elaborated. “He replied in this message he left for me, saying that if that was his destiny, then my own was to be at his side. As if I’ve always been there and always will.”

“Nice destiny,” Jim said, reminding himself it was stupid to be jealous of another version of himself. Especially since he _was_ a starship captain, and he _did_ have Spock at his side, albeit in a way that involved a lot less kissing and a lot more clothing at all times than Jim would ideally like. And no pet names either, which was a shame because Jim would really get a kick out of calling Spock sweetheart.

“You misunderstand,” Spock said. “This destiny is not something solely reserved for myself and my Jim; it is a constant across every version of ourselves that I have met.”

“Wait a second,” Jim protested, “just how many Jims and Spocks have you met?”

“I have come across seven counterparts of myself and you are the fourteenth James T. Kirk.” And here Jim thought he was special. “Of all those Jim Kirks, there was not one who would not have been most at home on the bridge of a starship. As for myself…” Here Spock paused, seeming to choose his next words with even more care than usual. “I cannot tell you what path your and your Spock’s relationship will take, and even if I could I very much doubt either of you would take well to being dictated to. However, I can say with certainty that any version of me loves every version of you, come time travel, or alternate universes, or even fat brains.”

“I thought you said my brain wasn’t fat!” But come to think of it, Spock hadn’t actually said that, had he? He had just called it an unusual question and let Jim change the subject.

Oh God, Jim’s brain was totally fat. 

“A high concentration of lipids in the brain is correlated with high intelligence,” Spock said, looking all amused again. Jim frowned, then sighed; that sounded about as real as scurvy, but Jim supposed he would take what he could get.

* * *

As proof of Cave Spock’s optimistic influence on him, after their conversation Jim was already feeling better about the situation with his Spock. Though that may have less to do with Cave Spock and more to do with Jim’s natural resilience: knock him down and he’ll come back twice as strong. Just ask Khan. Or Nero. Or the collective population of Riverside. Or… well, a lot of people, okay? Either way, Jim was feeling pretty confident now. So what if his brain was fat and unsexy? It had a great personality, which was a better foundation for a long-term relationship, or so Jim heard anyway. Besides, Jim was alright with letting his body be the sexy part of the Jim Kirk equation; it was definitely up to the challenge. So Jim decided to take his new-found confidence and do what Jim Kirk did best, aside from captaining a starship, of course: flirt.

The thing was, Jim had never actually flirted with Spock before. At first it was because Spock had still been dating Uhura, and Jim Kirk was not a poacher. And of course right after the two of them broke up had been no good either, because Jim was a classy guy – when he wanted to be – and hitting on your friend the instant he became single was definitely not cool. By the time the necessary waiting period was up, Jim had kind of forgotten about the whole flirting thing in favor of coming up with plans to either somehow logic Spock into a relationship with him or, more likely, to so overwhelm Spock’s emotional controls that Spock couldn’t help but jump him. (Well, jump him or strangle him again, but either way Jim figured he’d have his answer.) Plus, to be honest, Jim was a little nervous about trying to flirt with Spock.

See the other thing was, Jim had never flirted with anyone in a ‘please consider me as a serious long-term relationship partner’ kind of way before. He was really good at the whole friendly flirting thing, but the last thing Jim wanted was to get himself even further into the friendzone with Spock. (Though whether or not he actually could get further into the friendzone after Spock interrupted his _dying confession of love_ to assure him they were _friends_ was another question entirely.) Jim was also really good at flirting in the ‘you, me,  & the nearest horizontal, or vertical, surface’ way. That was closer to he wanted with Spock, with the addendum ‘and then let’s go to sleep, wake up, eat breakfast, and possibly have crazy hot morning sex together, lather, rinse, repeat for the rest of our lives.’ Going off of gut instinct – which always served Jim well, almost – Jim tried a weird hybrid of the two approaches, but more subtle; he thought the Vulcan in Spock would appreciate that. Of course, from the looks Uhura was shooting him (and Bones. And Sulu. And Chekov. But not Scotty, because Scotty was obviously Jim’s only real friend) his attempts at subtlety were less than successful. He was working on it. Whatever, it wasn’t like Spock had any problems telling Jim to fuck off if he thought Jim was being annoying.

Case in point occurred about a week after what Jim had mentally dubbed the Fat Brain Conversation, as Spock and Jim were playing chess in Jim’s quarters. Jim ‘accidentally’ brushed his fingers against Spock’s… for the fourth time that evening (okay, so subtlety wasn’t his strong suit. He really was working on it) and Spock snapped. Or, at least, he did the Vulcan equivalent of snapping that didn’t involve choking their subordinate against the bridge console.

“Captain,” Spock said, and though his tone was neutral, his eyes clearly communicated that he was remembering fondly the days when he had the authority to have Jim marooned on an ice planet. Huh. It had never occurred to Jim to try to make Spock lose control via a war of attrition before. “I must insist that you cease this cruel behavior.”

Wait, what?

Jim’s confusion must have been evident on his face because Spock’s expression grew more annoyed, which Jim had learned meant, counterintuitively, that he was actually less angry, and he heaved a massive sigh. On the inside, of course, but Jim could totally tell. “One point one six weeks ago we had a conversation that offended you. Thereafter there was a marked shift in your behavior toward me, which I can only conclude is in reaction to the aforementioned conversation.”

Jim did some quick calculations in his head, and yep they were definitely talking about the Fat Brain Conversation. Which meant the cruel behavior Spock had mentioned was Jim flirting with him. Jim was going to chalk that one up as a cultural misunderstanding, because there was really only so much one ego could be expected to take. “Okay, first of all if my behavior has been upset- displeasing to you, then I’m sorry and I’ll stop, but we have a problem if you really believe that I’d be deliberately cruel to you.” Jim thought about that for second before amending it with, “when people’s lives don’t depend on it.”

An edge of tension – one that Jim just now realized had been building for the past week, and seriously, what kind of horrible friend was he? – drained from Spock. “Apologies, Captain. Truthfully, it did not seem to fit in with your normal patterns of behavior, but I could think of no other logical explanation.”

“Well, if it happens again I suggest you start looking for proof that I’m actually my evil twin,” Jim joked, then he waved Spock off before he could object that Jim didn’t have a twin, evil or otherwise. “I’m just going to assume the whole thing was some kind of cultural misunderstanding. And another thing” – because Spock was going to feel guilty, illogical or no, until Jim said it – “our conversation last week didn’t offend me.” Crushed his soul a little bit, maybe, but cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it, right?

Spock looked at him, somehow managing to radiate skepticism via solely his eyebrow. “I admit that my ability to read human emotions is somewhat below the average, but I’m not as inept at it as you seem to think.”

“Okay, I admit that I wasn’t exactly thrilled at first, but you said I had a great personality,” Jim said, far more accusatory than entirely necessary, given that Spock probably hadn’t meant anything negative by it.

“As I recall, you claimed your brain had a great personality and I agreed. Given that the brain is the seat of the personality of the whole individual and you display a number of positive personality traits, such as bravery, compassion, and intelligence, it seemed a reasonable assertion.”

“See if you had said _that_ a week ago…” They’d still be having this conversation because apparently Jim’s flirting was ‘cruel behavior.’ Goddammit. Maybe he should have asked Cave Spock for tips on how Necklace Jim had flirted with him when Jim had been gathering information about Vulcans’ mating and romantic rituals . “Look, the point is, on Earth telling someone they have a great personality is kind of an insult.”

“Even judging by the standards of human idioms, that seems quite illogical,” Spock said.

“It’s because it’s so generic – knowing someone has a great personality doesn’t actually tell you anything about what they’re like – and it’s so subjective – literally everyone has a great personality from someone’s point of view – that it’s a short-hand way of saying that you don’t want to be rude, or lie, but you don’t actually have anything positive to say about the person,” Jim explained.

“I see,” said Spock, which either meant he did comprehend the backwards logic, or he was willing to pretend that he did to get Jim to stop babbling about incoherent human customs.

“So anyway, after that I talked to Cave Spock-“

“You discussed our conversation with my elder self?” Spock interrupted, the tips of his ears going faintly green. Weird, Spock had never gotten angry about Jim talking with Cave Spock before.

“Yeah, and like I was saying, he told me that you probably meant it as a compliment, which, obviously, you did. Like I said, a cultural misunderstanding.”

Spock nodded, and looked thoughtful. “Am I to conclude that that conversation took place directly after ours?”

“Yes…” Jim said slowly. He wasn’t really sure how that was relevant.

“Furthermore, I can then conclude that you turned down my proposal of a sexual liaison because you mistakenly believed that I had a negative or apathetic opinion of yourself and that your recent change in behavior was not an attempt to mock me for my regard for you, but rather to let me know, that, having this misapprehension fixed, you were amenable to a romantic relationship with me. Correct?” asked Spock calmly.

Wait, what?

“You never propositioned me!” Jim has never been black-out drunk enough in his life to forget something like that, and he hasn’t hit his head in months.

Spock furrowed his brow in confusion. “Yes I did, Captain. Last week when we underwent the mind-meld I found our minds to be extremely compatible. I admit I had considered the possibility of a romantic relationship between the two of us before that, but with the new information regarding our compatibility, I judged the possibility of you not sharing my interest to be reduced, and the potential gains should you be agreeable to be increased. As the risk to reward ratio then fell within acceptable perimeters, I sought you out to let you know that I found your mind attractive and your personality appealing, though it appears that due to a gap in my knowledge of human culture, I inadvertently implied the opposite.”

Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out before opening them again. “So calling someone’s mind dynamic is basically Vulcan for ‘I want to have your babies.’ Metaphorically.”

The furrow of Spock’s brow deepened. “That is a somewhat crude analogy, but not entirely inaccurate.”

Well, fuck. Jim thought about hitting his head against the table, but that might hurt his brain. His apparently very sexy brain. Jim was an idiot. And so was Spock for expecting Jim to just know Vulcan innuendos. And so was Cave Spock for not telling Jim about Vulcan sexual innuendos. Fuck.

“Captain?” said Spock, Jim having apparently been silent too long. “Have I misunderstood the nature of your regard?”

“I really, really hope not,” Jim replied. “Okay, no more misunderstandings, cultural or otherwise. I like you. I’ve always liked you, even when you where the asshole taking cheap shots at my Dad to prove a point, if only in the ‘gee that guy has balls’ kind of way. Then _Narada,_ and we were such an amazing team, and I _really_ started to like you, way more than appropriate for a guy with a girlfriend. That is, you had a girlfriend, though I guess it would’ve been pretty inappropriate if I’d had a girlfriend too. But then I was dying in the warp core and it was the worst thing ever because I couldn’t touch you, but it was the best because you were there, and I love you so fucking much. That’s why I went back for you on Nibiru, not because we were friends. I mean, I would still have gone back if we had been just friends, or if you were some random guy I had just met, because you’re you, and I can’t imagine being on the bridge without you by my side. As if you’ve always been there and always will. So, yes I am amendable to a romantic relationship. A professional relationship, a platonic one, a sexual one, a romantic one, whatever you want, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health” – but not until death do they part, because seriously, fuck that noise – “parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched.”

Spock stared at him, and Jim was pretty sure that if he were anyone but Spock he’d be gape-mouthed. “Captain… Jim. Was it your intention just now to propose to me?”

Honestly, Jim had just been babbling with no idea of what he was saying (he was working on it), but thinking back on the words in his head, yeah he could kind of see how Spock might have gotten that impression. And strangely, that didn’t bother him. Or maybe not strangely, because it was  _Spock_ , and it a lot of ways marrying him would just be a formality as far as Jim was concerned (and in a lot of other ways it would be  _totally awesome_ ). “Only if that isn’t weird."

“As we have not previously been in any sort of romantic relationship, I believe it would indeed be ‘weird,’” Spock said, and Jim felt his heart sink. At least, until Spock held out his two fingers in a Vulcan cultural gesture that Jim  _did_ know (thank you, Cave Spock). “I find, however, that I do not mind.”

* * *

 

Of course, despite their best efforts, that was hardly the last time they had a cultural misunderstanding. They were working on it.


End file.
